


Ciel Phantomhive: Destruction

by TastingLatte



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Destruction, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 18:41:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8811832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TastingLatte/pseuds/TastingLatte
Summary: Ciel Phantomhive can tell you about pain, about how life can destroy you. And he can try to describe how to hang on to ones heart, even as it is being torn apart and life collapsing.A Song!Fic! based on the haunting lyrics by Florence + the Machine.Part of the Feelings: A Series of One Shots series.





	

**Author's Note:**

> And now something different... SONG FIC! I am in love (like for reals...) with Florence + The Machine. So when I was listening and this came on, I had to use it. Lyrics are in italics... the story more or less is the arc of the whole series (with my own hopeful ending).

DESTRUCTION  
(A SongFic - Various Storms and Saints, by Florence + The Machine)

 _And the air was full_  
_Of various storms and saints_  
_Praying in the street_  
_As the banks began to break_

Ciel glanced around him and shuttered. If this was what the underside of London was, he wondered how he had the stomach to do his duty, as charged by the Queen herself. The Watchdog, she had gleefully called him, and ruffled his head, as if he was a dog. He grimaced and stepped back, off the curb, into a puddle. It soaked his pant legs and it suddenly clung to him, even as he clung to Sebastian, his tall and demonic butler. The clutching hands reached further and he shrunk back.

The rain poured over him, soaking his hair, his face, his coat. Everything was wet. Everything was dirty. And the smell. It was sickening. It brought back memories he didn't wish to revisit. Ever. And even as he trudged on, they seemed to splash back into his mind.

 _And I'm in the throes of it_  
_Somewhere in the belly of the beast_  
_But you took your toll on me_  
_So I gave myself over willingly_

To dismiss the memories was easy some days, some nights. Some moments. But this one, with the demon right there, with the underbelly trying to grip his coat and pull him into the shadows, this one moment was not a moment he could rip his memories away from traveling to the terrifying parts of his mind.

He was caged. Beaten. Used. Sold. Branded. Scared - body, mind, spirit, and what part of his soul he managed to keep. He held his hand over the open flame, screaming and crying, the hooded figures laughed and carried on. Carried on. Carried on… and he collapsed. His legs were useless. His body was not his. His mind… he screamed in terror at the others who would be shoved into his cage, his hair grabbed, his every waking moment and sleeping moment terror. And then…

He shuttered.

A knife, a lamb, a sacrifice. He had nothing to loose. He was dying, after all. He was left to die even as he breathed his bastardized prayer.

"Please… anyone… save me. Please… anything… let me live."

Tears mixed with the rain as they trudged on. Ciel glad that there was the pour that let the tears melt into the nothingness he longed to really feel deep in his body. He shuttered as the rain got under his collar and he turned it up more. He grunted at the lack of an umbrella and threw a glance over his shoulder. His demon ever so close.

 _Oh, you got a hold on me_  
_I didn't know how I don't just stand outside and scream_  
_I am teaching myself how to be free_

His carriage was warm, he didn't ask questions as Sebastian patiently shut the door and climbed up into the carriage box. He felt the jerking of the horses move, glad for the ordeal of policing the underbelly, dealing with those whose ethics were less than questionable, was done. For now.

He closed his eyes, the warmth a welcome relief. Ciel slipped the eye patch off. He wore it for show, for a bit of sympathy, out of pure shame.

Shame. He had given himself to a demon.

Shame. He had boldly embraced the deal.

Shame. His soul was not his to do with.

Shame. The seal burned many times, not because he was commanding Sebastian, but because he wished sometimes it wasn't so noticeable.

"The more visible, the stronger the bond."

And the greedy pair had sealed it in blood and pain. Blood and pain that Ciel had to deal with when he looked at his reflection. Trying to be free. Trying to right the destruction of his childhood.

 _The monument of a memory_  
_You tear it down in you head_  
_Don't make the mountain your enemy_  
_Get out, get up there instead_

Memories flooded his mind as he walked the long halls, the same ones he had done the night of the ordeal - the ordeal. He shook his head. His eyes settled on the portrait of his parents. Painful memories flooded and he held them in his hands, studying them, urging himself to watch his own memories slide and form.

Death.

Life.

Destruction.

He wished to run.

Run from what he demanded to be rebuilt.

Run from what he demanded to be done.

Run to his grave.

Run to his parents.

Run to a sure death.

He fell asleep under the portrait. His demon gliding up and looking at the small child, so small. So delicate.

So beautiful. So prideful. So delicious.

 _You saw the stars out in front of you_  
_Too tempting not to touch_  
_But even so it shocked you_  
_Something's electric in your blood_

Ciel left the door to the outside open, wanting to keep the light of the kitchen glow around him. He wasn't up for watching the stars, the falling ones or the still ones, but he wished to be in the open sky. The house had become crowded with servants - only four, but still it felt crowded.

"My lord," Sebastian's smooth voice said, beside him.

"No."

"I haven't requested anything."

"I know, I was just testing out how denying you sounded."

"And?"

Ciel sighed and turned. "I shan't do it again. It doesn't sound right. You… took me when I was too weak to say no. And I will not have it any other way."

Sebastian bowed swiftly, a small smile on his lips. "A wise choice to bind yourself with me."

"Don't get too cocky," the human spat and turned back to the open garden. "Merely a tool in my destruction and to be used in the destruction of others."

"Of course, my lord."

 _And people just untie themselves_  
_Uncurling lifelines_  
_If you could just forgive yourself_

Ciel's hand stilled as he contemplated grabbing another stack of business papers or leaving them for another time. He heard laughter and turned in his chair, sliding effortlessly out of it and took a few steps closer to the wide window in his study. Down below was his staff, minus Sebastian, spreading a blanket on the lawn, laughing and running as Bard and Finny went in circles, holding the basket he was sure had food in it, up and away from Mey-Rin. Tanaka was patiently undoing the blanket once more.

"They have no care in the world," he muttered to himself. "If only they knew the demons."

"They do, my lord," Sebastian's low voice said. It no longer startled him and Ciel merely glanced over his shoulder, demanding a further answer.

"They each have their own demons. Yours has a body and a face, and a constant reminder."

"We are always connected to our demons," Ciel said, leaning into the glass and watching them once more. "As we are connected to each other."

"Sometimes we can move on and forget how deep our demons have wounded us. How deep our former life has scarred us."

"And some of us can't ever shake the demon off." Ciel brushed past Sebastian and paused, opening the door. "But give me a few hours to try."

 _But still you stubble, feet give way_  
_Outside the world seems a violent place_  
_But you had to have him, and so you did_  
_Some things you let go in order to live_  
_While all around you the buildings sway_

The fingers once more were out, grabbing at him. Making him shrink back into the tall and demonic butler. Now they moved as one. Moved and breathed. Breathed and moved. When Ciel stumbled down the stairs, the strong hands, the greedy hands, the demanding hands, curled around him, catching, keeping him. Safe. Or in sight?

The swords crossed once more and the moaning of the dead echoed into the belly of the swaying ship. A dying sound. A dark and hollow sound. A sound he wasn't going to forget. A sound he didn't want to forget. Because he had made it once as well. When he grasped out for anything, like the blind corpses. He had grabbed the only thing that reached back.

Death. Destruction.

Life. Salvation.

And a soul. A simple request. A simple command. A simple gift. Security would be his. Safety would be in his grasp. And death would follow him. Till his own consumed him. An all consuming death, darkness, hollow.

A simple request.

A simple demand.

A simple command that flew now into the emptiness as his fingers now grasped at nothing but air.

"Sebastian…. Save me!"

 _You sing it out loud, who made us this way_  
_I know you're bleeding, but you'll be okay_  
_Hold on to your heart, you'll keep it safe_  
_Hold on to your heart, don't give it away_

The darkness was a normal place for Ciel. It was comforting and scary. All and nothing. All and nothing… like his love for his life. Like his love for his family. Like his love for his demon. All same. All different. All that made him scream and cry, cherish and dismiss.

And now he looked at the boy - almost too grown for such a marked title below him - in the mirror. It reflected so many things. So many horrible and joyous things. So many things he wished to be and not be. He touched his eye once more and the flash of the night, of his deal, settled and fled. It was something done, never to be returned. It was a deal of a scared boy. It was a deal he would make once more if he had too. Or would he? Was he the same? No, he reminded himself. His heart was his. His soul was another's. But his heart could be given to whom ever he wished. And he had so many different places he wanted to keep his heart safe.

In the hands of his demon.

In the hands of his staff.

In the hands of his betrothed.

In the hands of the Queen.

In the hands of death itself.

But he clutched his hands to his chest now, as if the very thing he had as his own would leap out and make a decision without him. As if it could. As if it didn't already know.

 _You'll find a rooftop to sing from_  
_Or find a hallway to dance_  
_You don't need no edge to cling from_  
_Your heart is there, in your hands_

Ciel spread the blanket on the roof and laid on it. He glanced at the roof door and hoped he had snuck away well enough for a moment or two alone. He let his eyes slide back to the sky, all around pinpricks of light, stars of soft and bright. It brought back a memory of his father doing the same as he did now, hold out a hand, fingers spread and watching as the stars seemed to dance between his fingers. So many years and things had taken that memory back to a dark, deep place. And now, Ciel, all of 15, was willingly trying to summon it closer to the surface.

He had forgotten how to smile, laugh, dance - things that made a child like him a child. He was a man. Thrust into the world on an evil whim. On something he knew nothing about. Into a world he knew nothing about. His father had not told him, the Queen had. His father had not shown him, his demon had.

Ciel curled his fingers into a fist and brought it back to his chest. His memories were far from pleasant, and he wanted to relax. Not feel as if his life was tipping into the edge of the black pit he had surrendered himself to. The sky. It was brilliant. It held so many secrets and the vast darkness was almost the reflection of his soul. Of his feelings. Of something surely inside him.

It beat inside even as his eyes drifted closed. He gripped the blanket and tried not to fall into the abyss of sleep. Ciel had so much to do, so much to see, so much to think about. But there was also time, time to do the things he wanted, time to hunt the underside of the society and slowly take the blocks away from this puzzle of his life. And he loved puzzles. His life was one, and he tried to play the king in the chess game. But he felt he was falling, falling off the throne and into the grips of the hands that clung to him, wrapped him up and wanted to suck him up and out, and hollow him out. He rolled over and looked up at the stars once more.

"Only this is mine," he whispered, his hand clenching his chest, flat, his heart beating strong. And as he listened to it thunder in his ears, he let sleep take him.

 _I know it seems like forever_  
_I know it seams like an age_  
_But one day it will be over_  
_I swear it's not so far away_

Sebastian watched as the sun rose over the Manor, the Phantomhive Staff cleaning up the carnage that was the night. Bodies were thrown in the cart. Bard counted his spent rounds and stuffed them in a bag.

Mey-Rin came beside him and handed him the paper that had been left behind in the fight.

Sebastian folded it and slipped into his vest pocket. The Earl would have a few more leads for the Queen when they went into London. He surveyed the damage to the Manor itself and smiled a bit; the blood and bodies would be wiped away, and no structural damage occurred. Perfection would still be achieved. He took his pocket watch and clicked it open. He didn't need it, he knew the seconds by the way the sun was slowly peaking over the tree-line. He didn't need to look at the staff to know that Tanaka was bringing tea. He didn't have to listen hard to know that the young master was sitting in bed, looking out the window, waiting. On him. On the day to begin. On the last day. He sighed and glided into the home he had rebuilt. He walked the stairs, the hall, and into the bedroom. Ornate, grand, demanding.

Like the little soul he had bound himself to. Like the young man whose contracted eye fell upon him and took in all that went around him. But he dulled himself, as humans often did. As the staff did when they were not weapons. And Sebastian tried to turn down some of his own demonic nature, his anger, his impatience, his suffering. Because this human needed him. Now. For a long time. And if he was calculating, until the very end of eternity. Sebastian smirked as he picked out the young masters' clothes. An eternity tied to a child. No, he reminded himself, the Earl was growing - slowly in physical stature - and was stubborn enough to see himself to adulthood. Perhaps married. Children. A long life. A life of duty and honor, much like how Sebastian conducted his own.

He was old. Older than old. But young. A demon, an immortal who loved humanity in a particular way. In a way that made him shunned by the others. He liked taking his time. He liked cultivating. He took to the side streets to nip a quick soul when he was desperate, but the one that was standing beside him, talking to the Queen, it was worth the extra effort and extra time. To Sebastian it was a blink in a long existence and it would end in time. To the humans he surrounded himself with, it was long and laborious. It was wroth with sadness and fear. The delicious feelings a demon loved. But it also had the love and laughter that also came with life, filling the soul with sweet tones and making the drinking of them so much more pleasant.

He tucked in his young master and paused. No, this life and these people were something special to him. He wasn't sure why, and as he turned and passed the servant quarters, he didn't mind how long it took.

Because one day it would be over, and that day would be sooner then later, only because in his time line, ends were never very far away for the humans.

 _And people just untie themselves_  
_Uncurling lifelines_  
_If you could just forgive yourself_  
_Hold on to your heart_

The humans of the world continued to move along. Things continued to pass and the Phantomhive legacy continued as well. The Queen's Watchdog passed from hand to hand, Vincent to Ciel, to his son. And now there was a new contract, the same familiar dark shadow by its side. Sebastian held out his hand and helped his new master into the carriage, smiling as he caught the same hard line of the mouth, the same flash of pride in the eyes. He had helped the passing of his father. As he would the boy he now sat opposite from. But unlike his father, the boy - 16 when he became the Watchdog - knew. Knew what had been done. Knew who he was. Knew what power was protecting him. And Sebastian felt pride in being able to take the next generation's soul and continue the fight.

But it was tempered with a sadness that had crept in. Tanaka had passed before the Earl had married. Bard had shattered his leg in a particular gruesome fight with demons and angels, and became wheelchair bound. Finny learned how to keep the gardens green and trimmed. And Mey-Rin had also been wounded and had use of only one arm. But they soldiered on, in the Phantomhive Manor, and with the Phantomhive fight in their hearts. Sebastian had brought in new staff, and now for four years, had become as well oiled and efficient as the one he had gathered to protect the late Earl.

"Your past is long, yet you dwell on it too frequently," the current Earl said, cutting into the silence. "Care to share?"

Sebastian shifted his gaze and slowly smiled. "Only not to loose your heart to the past. Take ahold of it and let it guide you. It has a funny way of binding to the most precious of things this life has to offer."

The Earl raised an eyebrow and smiled a bit. "And the Phantomhive's are the most precious this life has offered you in a while? Yet isn't it also our destruction being led by one's heart?"

"You have no idea, young master, you have no idea."

_Written by Florence Leontine Mary Welch, Markus Dravs • Copyright © Universal Music Publishing Group  
_


End file.
